Hearts Go Beyond Blood
by Michael Nguyen
Summary: Imoen comes upon a sudden realization about her relationship with her brother. However, this leaves with questions unanswered. Imoen goes off on a quest to find her brother resolve this matter. REWRITTEN CHAPTER 1 UPLOADED!
1. Default Chapter

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** HEARTS GO BEYOND BLOOD**

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A Baldur's Gate fanfiction by Michael Nguyen

A **Baldur's Gate** fanfiction written by **Michael Nguyen**, based on the characters of the computer game **Baldur's Gate**, which is based on the world of ** Forgotten Realms**TM, A game world created by **Dungeons & Dungeons**TM, owned by **Wizards Of The Coast, Co**.

Disclaimer : This work of fiction is only written for fan purposes. The **Baldur's Gate** saga is owned **Black Isle Studios** and **Bioware**. The author of this fanfiction does not have the right to lay claim to already copyright ideas and sources. Rather, they are being used only for purposes of fan literary entertainment. This work of fiction is NOT to be made profit out of. As I repeat, this is only a work of fanfiction and NOT to be made profit out of.

Warning : This work of fanfiction may include some mature themes such as incest and such. All I ask is to keep an open mind whether whatever you deem is immoral and such. REMEMBER, this is ONLY a work of fanfiction. Do not take it literally.

**_ And so the story begins…_**

  



	2. Memories and a Confusing Relation

_ Dedicated to Lord Mirraboo for his Imoen Romance mod and to the person who wrote the first but incomplete Imoen romance fanfiction "The Healing". You can read it in Fanfiction.net._

** CHAPTER 1**

** Memories and a Confusing Relation**

Happiness yet confusion were all that she felt as she thought back to old memories.

Imoen looked out of the window of her quarters. Outside the stony walls of the aging fortress of knowledge was the beautiful sight of grasslands, valleys, and trees, not to mention the grayish but majestic mountains to the west. She couldn't forget about those mountains. It reminded her of him. Hurt and weathered from conflicts, yet standing seemingly tall and strong against all the horrors placed before him.

Despite the reminder bringing a small smile to her face, the reminder also brought a weathering of worry.

The young girl stretched till she was satisfied that her muscles were ready to move for a new day and jumped from her bed. With a lax yawn, she shed her nightgown and readied a simple outfit: a purple tunic and green trousers, held together by her trademark belt. The belt was also a reminder of good times, when it was just her, him, and the road ahead. Imoen slipped on a pair of sandals, exited out of her room and headed towards the library for due studies.

"Him," she thought. It was back then…

~~~

**_ Three years ago…_**

~~~

After the whole ordeal from the siege of Tethyr and the Bhaalspawns that sought plans for the glory of blood and conquest and the resurrection of Bhaal destroyed, the worst was now put to rest at the time being. Imoen now wanted to abandon her dark past, to journey away from the darkness with her brother aside her. She had enough and wanted to free herself from the painful memories, her cursed lineage, and Irenicus. It was all but whispering memory to her ears while the anticipation of traveling beside her brother to a new road only resided in her mind.

Imoen adored her brother very much. He had put his life at the hands of death to save her from the pains of her capture and restored her soul from the vampiress Bohdi. There was a lot that she wanted to thank him for, yet the dangerous events prevented her to actually express her gratitude. Now that the Realms saved and all that, Imoen wanted to spend time with him to substitute all the times she had missed, to have fun sharing her life with her brother free from all the life-threatening battles, the restless waves of danger, and the meddlesome, bloody divinity.

The situation of Tethyr had but been heavy for Imoen. Every step they took brough endless, deadly obstacles before them, testing the fates to see if they could continue to survive. She was so afraid for every minute and wary of the chance that her brother would be taken away from her. One by one at every conflict emerged, the stakes seemed to grown higher from every peak of continual combat. However, when there were times when luck appeared to run out on their favor, he would come of the fray victorious and with a tired smile that brought assurance and relief to Imoen.

When the time came for Solar to grant them wishes as an award for their services, Imoen gladly wished away her Bhaal essence from her blood. Never again she would have to constantly struggle the evil within her again. However, when the divine messenger gave her brother the choice to become a god. She was unsure about what decision he would choose. Should he choose for divinity, surely he would no longer be by her side. She dreaded by the second when her brother was still deciding on his fate.

Suddenly, from his lips Imoen heard his choice, "I choose… a mortal life."

"And that wish it shall be former Bhaalspawn," Solar responded and took the dark essence from within him. The divine being bid farewell and rose into the heavens.

With those words heard it brought joy to her very soul. The young thief mage was so sure that her brother might accept such an offering; such a thing may greatly upset and disappoint her, however she would still wish him the best he chose that option.

Imoen noticed that when her brother made a wish, he was staring straight at her. She could see his weariness yet at the same time relief from the core of his eyes. He smiled a bright smile, bringing embarrassing warmth to her cheeks yet concerned of what it may mean. It was no matter though; maybe he was tired of divinity and being once a Bhaalspawn probably brang him to tire of anything to do with the Gods.

Locke, slowly approached Imoen with a slight stagger due to his injuries from fighting the Demogorgon. As he was near her, he wrapped his arms around her tightly and let loose a great sigh to show that finally all the troubles were over and that they were free to choose their own path. Imoen eagerly responded with a hug. It felt so good to let loose all the stress and weary that tore upon her body and mind.

As they looked at each others faces, they had both smiles on their faces. With renewed vigor, Locke russled Imoen's hair and her giving a playful punch at his shoulder. They looked to the exit where the path to their future lay.

"C'mon Imoen. The party's waiting for us," softly said Locke with great anticipation to rejoin the group.

"Well said big brother," Imoen responded with uplift cheer in her voice.

After the party had left Tethyr, they set their way back the Sword Coast, correcting any evil that befell any innoncents and quested to right the wrongs. With time passed, every individual in the group thought it was the time to say their farewells to make their own path for their future. Minsc wanted to return to his home to the fields of Rasheman to tell his people of the victories he had earned. Aerie wanted to join with Minsc to see his homeland. Jaheira decided that it was time for her to leave Locke for he proved to be a grown, responsible man worthy of what Gorion had expected of his adopted son. Viconia heard about the lands of the North known as the Icewind Dale and sought to find herself a home there. Keldorn wish to return to his own wife and settle down.

Locke and Imoen said their tearful goodbyes with embraces (except for Viconia for she only embraced Locke). Minsc had declared that he was not going to tears for it was shameful for a man to do so. But he gave in and almost choked Locke out of breath with his hug with the strength of a bear. Keldorn gave his wishes to both former Bhaalspawns for good fortune and admired Locke that he was an honorable man and it was a pleasure serving him. The party then splited off to their own destinations whereas Locke and Imoen ventured towards Beregost.

The two stayed at the Feldepost's Inn and sought work and room. Locke substituted his sword for the hoe and worked in the fields and stables to earn coin for their stay. Imoen spent her time reading some fiction literature, making the rooms for the Inn, and sang some childhood songs to entertain the audience and herself. When there was trouble with small-time banditry or the like, Locke had no problem taking up the sword when the call was needed. However in their free times they played games, entertained each other with jokes and laughter at old happy memories and spent the afternoons cooking up different meals for the both of them while they chatted and ate. It appeared that they already had started a life here and away from the past.

However, suddenly this evening seemed to be quite different. Besides from their pleasant chat at the beginning of their supper, Locke's vocie caught her attention.

"Imoen." Her brother softly called. Imoen had looked up from her meal to her brother's face in response to his voice. The first thing that caught her attention was Locke's eyes. They were of calm blue as the still lake, yet cold from the dark past. She then looked at the face of her significant sibling. Although slightly marred by the scars of battles, the handsome characteristics of his face brought her to recall her past childhood memories. When she first met him, he was a silent, brooding boy with a habit of getting into fights with other peers. He was a social outcast; although he listened and made attempts to follow the teachings of their father Gorion, his disliked anybody who dared to come near him, be it monks, bullies, or other children of his age. Determined to get him out of his depressing state, little Imoen "borrowed" his make-shift staff that he so-called claimed it as his chosen sword. This resulted in a chase, while laughing in delight at the thrill of being chased.

"Hey frownie, you can't catch me!"

"Give me back my weapon! Just you wait! I'll get- oof!"

The outcast boy slipped over a bump and fell flat on his face. As he raised his head up, he could see chuckling Imoen holding her hand to help him up and her other hand holding his "weapon" in one piece. The whole situation about a wooden stick seemed so ridiculous that he started to laugh, along with the pleasant chuckles of the girl adding to his laughter.

After the two calmed down, they both introduced each other.

"Name's Imoen, pick-pocket extroadinare! Nice ta meetcha! What's yours?" Imoen introduced herself with a degree of playfulness and confidence,

"Name's Locke. Nice to meet you," answered the boy in a now calm tone.

After their first meeting, the two were inseparable in their friendship. Imoen would teach and play games and cards with Locke. When the time was good such as playing pranks on unsuspecting neighbors, she taught him the art of "not getting caught." In return for her mentorship, he would teach her some swordplay he had learned from the Candlekeep garrison and street-fighting. Both caused a good deal of troublemaking throughout the fortress of knowledge, resulting in rumors of purses disappearing from Puffgut's inn as well as some hilarious pranks against bullies that sought to cause the two some misery.

Locke and Imoen grew older to adolescence and their playfulness still continued. Dwelling back, Imoen remembered that once had a a slight attraction for her brother. That was before she knew he was her brother. Although their friendship bonded closer than ever, she couldn't deny his handsome looks. His short, rugged hair gave him a boyish look that could not help stave off her slight attraction. She became slightly jealous when Locke unwittingly received a few peeks from the young, female mage students studying in Candlekeep. Despite her feelings, she never told him about that and probably was glad she hadn't said anything about that to him. It would probably be… well, strange. However, Locke didn't take notice of the changes of his character but he grew very much into his "big brother" job. When Imoen grew into a pretty girl of sixteen, some of the stable boys made attempts to get fresh with her. Only black eyes and bruises managed to prevent them from going further with Imoen, which sort of disgusted and scared her. He did his job so well that she playfully teased him by calling him "Little Brother."

Imoen reminisced about the good old times, before this whole Bhaalspawn business. Sadly, her daydreaming came to a close as she heard Locke calling out her name.

"Hmm... um… yes… what is it lil' brother?"

Locke seemed to have a troubling look over his face. His eyes that used to be of calm blue became full of worry.

"I…. need to talk to you about something," answer Locke. Apparently, his voice and posture gave him on how nervous he was.

"Yeah Locke? Chip in! Shoot! Sis's getting impatient!"

Locke smiled for a bit on behalf of his sister's cheerful support, but the result may change that.

_ This is it. I've put it off for far too many times. I have to do this now._

"There's something you should know, the truth about myself. The truth about my thoughtsm no… my feelings about us. I-I have no thoughts upon where this may go or how you act after I have said what I'm going to say. All I plead you to be patient with me about my confession."

"Yeah lil' brother. Don't worry. I'm all ears," calmly assured Imoen as she brought her hand on his shoulder, attempting to give him some reassurance.

"I…I thank you sis… no, Imoen. I… What I'm about to …say… um…"

"Go on!" Imoen said loudly, getting a bit impatient with his indecision.

"Sorry. The truth about what I am about to say is that I… love you."

Imoen, still unsure of where this conversation was leading answered anyway to comfort Locke. "Don't worry brother. I love you too."

"I…no, it's different Imoen. I… I think I'm IN love with you."

Suddenly, the coming realization hit on Imoen's head. She was shocked at the thought that Locke… no… her **brother** was in love with ** her**?

"I… You're kidding Locke. Come on, stop teasin' your sister."

"No, Imoen. I… I've been in love with you for many years, maybe from the first time that we've met. When there was no one else save Gorion that ever wanted to befriend me, you gave me hope. From the darkness that fogged my clarity, it was you whom gave me light to survive. I would risk my life and soul to rescue you from any pain as I had done so, and I would still do so again. Just being with you gives me pleasure than any Calimshan treasure. Imoen, I love you."

"I," choked Imoen as she was still confused about how she would respond to her brother's confession.

"There is no woman that I would give my soul to than you Imoen. I want to spend my entire lifetime to care for you, to always be by your side. That's the truth, Imoen," finished Locke with a nervous anticipation on how Imoen would say.

_ I had done my part. I wish… no, wishing is for fools. The truth is now. _

In the midst of confusion and shock, the girl lashed back.

"I… can't BELIEVE! No, I can't BELIEVE!"

"I.. understand Imoen-"

"Understand, no you **don't** understand! Gods, I have a brother who thinks he's in love with me! For Gorion's sake, what were you thinking 'Big Brother'? We're brother and sister! It's… it's disgusting! What would you father think about **this**?"

Suddenly, Imoen covered her mouth in guilt and pondered at the words she've said to him. It was unbelievable! However, her tirade had obviously brought hurt upon her brother. He blatantly held a posture of defeat although he was struggling to hide his shame. He gave a sad grin to try to lighten things up, however what was done and said was finished and he already knew the outcome.

"As I said, I understand Imoen. I know I have wronged you greatly. I'm going to the stables if my presence is bothering you. Good night…Imoen."

She heard him choke back his tears as he left the room, leaving her in thought about his confession.

As hours passed and the night reigned the skies, Imoen, no matter what she heard, was now concerned about the health of her brother. She didn't want him to spend the night in the stables. She decided to go and convince him to come inside their room to sleep. Although the confession and the thought of being near him made her a bit nervous but his health was more important to her.

"Bro-Locke, its nightfall already. Please come inside. There's a warm fire lit. Come on, the stables are too cold."

A long pause occurred and finally Locke gave his answer.

"No, thank you Imoen. I prefer the hay."

"But Locke, you'll catch your death-"

"No thank you Imoen. I'll be fine."

With that said, Imoen went back to her room and had a sleepless night, still worrying if her brother slept well and his confession. However, by the next morning, everything had changed from the usual routine of lifestyle they had known during their time in Beregost. Most of days, she could see her brother becoming too involved in his work. He would distance himself at mealtimes. When she tried to chat, she feel Locke's uneasiness and that resulted in quiet suppers. Thinking that Beregost wasn't best fro them, She convinced her brother (almost too easily) to set out to the road again. However, it got worse. There was still that uneasy feeling anytime she was near Locke. He still kept his distance from her during travel. He only took the lead if there were any threats. During camping nights, there was no more of the cheerfulness and celebration between the siblings. There was distance, fear, and loneliness. Imoen felt so lonely when Locke would sleep at a distance away from her. She was used to sleeping near him but since the confession she couldn't do that. Even at fires, he was quiet for most of the time. She was torn apart between two situations: the urging desire to be at her brother's side comforting him while on the other hand, was the slight disgust and alienating feeling about her brother's thoughts towards her.

Believing that her presence was doing nothing but causing him pain, she confessed to Locke that she wanted to go back to Candlekeep to continue her studies in sorcery. She hoped that with some time alone to himself he would overlook this matter personally, deem it to be ridiculous, and find some worthy woman to pursue his romantic interests at. To her surprise, Locke offered no resistance to her wishes and told her good luck with her studies. They left with no tears to cry; no burst of emotion displayed. During her time in Candlekeep, she spent a good three years of studying and developing her powers in sorcery to much of her delight, she could not help but think about Locke everyday, wondering if he was okay and found someone to find comfort in.

Then again, she still wished she was still there with him.

~~~

**_ Present…_**

**_ ~~~_**

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"Imoen!"

Imoen woke up from her dreaming and was face to face to her mentor, Dethryn, a sorceror in Condlekeep whom was a volunteer in managing the archives of the Candlekeep library for many long years. It was him who sought potential in the young mage and tutored her the school of sorcery.

"Sorry Father Dethryn, I was daydreaming. Won't happen again," sheepishly assured Imoen.

"Good! Now that you have awakened from your slumber, proceed on to next chapter."

"Yessir! NO problem sir! I'm on it!"

"Good that we have something in to agree in. Carry on."

As Imoen turned the page to the next chapter and read out loud.

"Sorcery is not knowing the flow of magic, rather 'feeling' the flow of magic. Any mage can know the incantations and rituals to support the production of magic, yet it is the sorceror that can wield magic thoughtout his mind ,body, and soul. Take great care of your soul, for to be fully accomodated within the energies of your body, you can achieve the natural instincts of conjuring magic."

"That's good," Dethryn applauded, pleased at her recitation. "Carry on to the end of the chapter and I shall give you a description of the definitions."

"Yes Father," Imoen said with great gusto, feeling great on her progress in sorcery. In good happiness she was, but she couldn't stop thinking about Locke." 

"Locke…. I hope you're okay…"


	3. A Sudden Realization and a Quest For Tru...

** CHAPTER 2**

**A Sudden Realization and a Quest for the Truth**

Father Dethryn looked at his young pupil. Already three years and his student began to already show signs of great potential and progress. Imoen had already understood the basics formulating magic within her energies and could somewhat mold her energy to her will. It would have taken five years to master such a skill, yet the girl showed incredible potential. In addition, her cheerful humor gave happiness to everyone whom sought patronage within the halls of Candlekeep. Dethryn was glad to have her as a student. She was more of like daughter than an apprentice. It was sure that in the heavens, Gorion was proud of his daughter.

However, despite her bouncy and happy appearance, Dethryn could also sense sadness, particularly loneliness and a great worry for something or someone. Although Imoen dated with a few young men, she broke off contact and still returned to her own state. Something was troubling her; it was obvious due to her daydreaming and staring in the Library hours ago. This was happening too often and he was determined to get to the bottom of this, to know about the pain inside his dear student and to find a solution to conclude this emotional conflict within her.

"Imoen," the monk requested.

"Hmm? Yessir! Imoen's on it! What's it gonna be Master?"

"Ah-ah, proper tongue my apprentice."

"Okay, okay… jeez. Ahem… Yes Master, how may I aid you?"

Father Dethryn began the question. "Tell me what's on your mind, Imoen."

Imoen gave a puzzled look. "Uh… nothing Father. I'm just about my studies, nothing else."

"I've known you for three years and 10 days; I think I know enough about what your thoughts are."

"I swear Father. It's nothing."

Annoyed Dethryn might be on Imoen's resistance in revealing her truths, he still showed patience.

"Imoen, do be aware that truth is also part of knowledge, another key into becoming a successful practitioner of the magic arts. To hold the truth within yourself is to deny that very vital knowledge."

"I…" It seemed Imoen was weakening her resistance. The monk smiled in subtle victory.

"Trust me Imoen. Even you must trust in your emotions to become a powerful mage."

Imoen's puzzled face then became that of a concerned one. She then finally confessed.

"I… Father Dethryn, I worry about someone."

"Go on. I'm here to advise and help you."

"Thank you Dethryn," gladly responded Imoen. Dethryn second to Gorion was like a father to her. "I'm worried about someone, a person… a man if you will Father. I've known him in my entire life from when I was a babe till I was grown up. I grew really close to him; we were… inseparable. We both understood and comforted each other in times of need. I… care deeply for him… yet until I was a bit shocked about what he had felt about me. It's…. it's complicated."

"Nothing is too complicated my dear Imoen. I'm still willing to listen."

"I… thank you Father. I… he, whom I've been talking about, is my brother."

"Ah… I see. Locke. Imoen praised much about his son back then."

"Yes Father. I cared deeply for my brother as he cared for me. I… I loved him like as a sister would love a brother. After the whole situation back three years ago, I find it confusing. I… I was disgusted and well, shocked about what he felt about me. But, when I thought about the good times we've spent together… I'm not so sure."

"Ah… I see. And what was this ordeal that disgusted you?"

"My brother… he's in love with me."

"How so does that explain your disgust? So do all other brothers that care for their sisters."

"No… father, it's different. He's IN love with me. Like… when… when… a man loves a woman?"

This brought a great concern over Dethryn. He was caught between his pupil's morals and her great concern and affection for her brother.

"I see."

"I just… I couldn't. It's not right. I mean, what would Ol' Gorion think, his own son in love with his daughter? What would he think of me? I… I couldn't do that.... so… I…"

"Go on."

"I told him it was wrong and he should rethink things over. Then, I kinda left him to give him some time alone to think, maybe leave him to find some worthy gal to be by his side."

The monk analyzed her confessions carefully. There was a great consequence in her actions.

"Imoen, have you ever really thought harder about what your brother might feel about your abandonment?"

"I… well, I told him I was going to go to Candlekeep to study magic and stuff. I thought lil' brother took it well. He wished me luck."

"It would seem so, but I have a feeling that your brother wished to atone for his sins, and therefore distancing himself from you. I believe that he thought he has greatly shamed himself and you, and sought further to prevent himself from further shaming you and your honor. Your brother cares, or I daresay loves you very much. However, his emotions are still there…"

"I… what was I supposed to do Father? It's… wrong?"

"I have no idea about what his feelings about you are right now, but I can tell that this conflict has been yet to be resolved. What about you? What are you feeling right now at this very minute?"

"I… I dunno Father, but I still worry about him. I mean, I wonder where he is and how he is doing. Heck, I still wonder if he's still thinking about despite all of this. I'm… just very confused. Every time I think about him, I think about past times that we spent together… happy. I… loved those times. I'm … I'm not so sure about what is right anymore Father. I mean… is it wrong for me to think like that when he's… you know?"

There was a pause. Imoen was beginning to get a bit nervous while Dethryn was in thought. Then he asked a single question.

"Imoen, do you feel guilt?"

The young mages was surprised about the question but then realized it hit home to where her feelings where. "Yes… I feel so guilty most of the time. I feel as if I abandoned Locke during his time of need. I… I did something wrong have I, Father Dethryn?"

"Nothing my child, you were confused about the complications that were brought before you. However, this matter still needs to be resolved between you and your brother. Obviously, you are still confused about your feelings towards your Locke. I think you need a vacation."

"I can't! What about my studies?"

"I have the utmost confidence in you. You have learned enough to survive any threat or encounter that may lie before you, and have shown the greatest potential than any of my students had ever presented. I think it's allowable to delay your studies for pursuits that are far more worth than being cramped up in this dusty library."

Imoen chuckled lightly at the monk's joke. However, she still had her worries.

"But, where am I going to find him? What'll happen when I see him? I mean, where will I go?"

"As I said, you have all the vacation time you need. Do not ponder on such minor thoughts. Answers to questions may be revealed once you find your brother."

Imoen was amazed at Father Dethryn's willingness to help her in allowing her studies to be delayed. She had to show respect for what her master was working hard for.

"Thank you. But Father please tell me, what do you think of all this?"

The monk gave his truest answer.

"Love, is a very powerful emotion. It can be found in the most unlikely couple of individuals. Both you and Locke share a deep love, a bond that may well transcend beyond deeper than that of a mere brother-sister relationship. The hardships that you have faced together have only worked to bring the bond closer than ever, and the confusion of the truth behind of those emotions is what may threaten it. You, Imoen, must decide if you desire to keep the bond and that means finding the truth about your feelings and yourself. I have seen such love before and it seems to be true; it is above more than just simple lust. You're brother means too well that he would quest to keep the bond by distancing himself from you because he does not want you to be disgusted at him further. However, that I believe is wrong and may as well break the very bond that you together have developed."

Imoen pondered on Tethryn's words carefully.

"Come my child. You must journey as soon as possible. When the sun has risen, supplies and provisions will be in your quarters. I'll even make sure that one of my students will find rumors about where your brother may be. As I've heard, he's quite the hero you know."

Imoen, wanting to thank her mentor said words of thanks.

"Th-thank you Father. I appreciate what you are doing for me."

"No need. Now, continue your studies."

"Yes Father."

**_ The next day…_**

Imoen waved goodbye when she finally exited the gates of Candlekeep. Looking towards the road, she was determined although a bit nervous to find her brother. Rumor was that her brother was heading north to help solve a bandit problem.

"Well, I guess this it. I hope to see you soon Locke."

With that said, she set off into the road north.

Meanwhile, Tethryn prayed to the gods for favor. "Oh gods, I pray in hopes that you will guide Imoen to her truth. I wish that she will find true love. And to Gorion, I hope that you are still proud of them, no matter what the complications maybe."

Then the monk closed his prayer.


	4. Of Dreams and Reminders

** CHAPTER 3**

** Of Dreams and Reminders**

It has been three days since Imoen had set foot on the road away from Candlekeep. It was the middle of fall, and already the leaves of the trees have grown to their aging, brownish color, and the wild grasses were already growing old with light browned age. The breeze was a bit too cool, stinging lightly on the young mage's face. Imoen had almost seen the slight sign of winter when scarce snowflakes fell slowly on the ground and melted on the surface.

The young mage was following the road to Cloakwood town, where her brother was last rumored to reside in. She had no clue to what Locke's purpose may be, however she could only fall back on the "news" that she had received from dear ol' PuffGuts…

** Candlekeep Inn**

"Why Imoen! My sneaky little lass! How fares ya this time of day," Puffguts, or Winthrop gladly belted out when he saw his little favorite girl.

"Heya Puff…er I mean Winthrop! How's things going in the Inn," Imoen answered gleefully.

"So Imoen lass, what need ye be comin' to ol' Winthrop for, eh?"

"I'm going out for a trip Winthrop. I'll need some supplies, provisions and the like. I have some coin if you need."

"Going for a trip, aye? And what reason for ye to be wantin' ta make this trip?"

"I'm going to visit my brother, or at least find him."

"Find yer brother 'aye? That Locke, boy was he a mighty lad when I remember, before all this bad business resulted on the departure of yer dear Gorion. Ah, but I shan't dwell on such bad memories. You're brother's been makin' a name for himself in the Realms I've heard. Oh yes my dear lass, Locke's name been ringing for long distances throughout the towns! I've heard Locke the Mighty and Fearsome, and I've heard Locke the Great and Merciful! Aye, despite these dull and crumblin' walls of Candlekeep (pardon me dear Aluando) fame breaches it this very instant! Aye, ye should be proud of 'im!"

"Thanks Winthrop," Imoen blushed. Despite Puffgut's ramblings that might bore even the willow tree, she couldn't help but feel proud of Locke. At least he is still out there doing good deeds for the Realms.

"But Winthrop, have you heard any rumors to the whereabouts of Locke?"

"OH SURE, why I'm glad ye asked!" Winthrop looked around for any eavesdropping folk then leaned towards Imoen and gave a serious and shady look.

"I've got me connections all right, and this is what I've heard. This is secret information, not a soul to anyone! A danger might befall if someone of dark character hears of it! The good people of the Sword Coast, unlike those lazy Amn folks, have good eyes and ears; there be queer things brewing this very moment! I've heard and been notified from the most reliable of Sword Coast merchants and good messengers that a dark omen is coming soon. Dark creatures have increased their attacks against the good townspeople of the North, and not only that, I've heard rumors of a bandit army growing in numbers! Seems like someone or 'something' wants a repeat of this whole Iron Throne fiasco, not to mention news about a handful of supposed Bhaalspawns seeking to destroy the very fiber of the Balduric lands: Baldur's Gate!"

"Wow… that's a bit… far Winthrop. What about my brother?"

"Mind ye own tongue lass, ye know not what affairs ye dealing with here! Oh, and forgive me if I offended ya, no offense intended with the whole Bhaalspawn business. But what I am saying; 'tis is true! A dark cloud looms over north, and it looms over the new town Cloakwood Town! That is where I've heard you're brother is headed for, seeks to do away the black cloud! What a hero; Great Balduran and Gorion would've been proud of 'im!"

Imoen wanted more confirmation about the location of her brother before she set off.

"Are you sure Winthrop? Are you sure that my brother is headed for Cloakwood Town?"

"Aye, I make no mistake dear Imoen! Where trouble rumbles from the soil of the Sword Coast, your brother will be there! Strange, dark things are happenin' around the soil near Cloakwood Town so Locke will be there!"

"Thank you very much Winthrop! Please, could ya fetch me some supplies quickly? I have to get to my brother this instant! You can have as much coin as you need."

"Aye no coin is needed lass. If your brother be that important then to him you must go to. Let Great Winthrop get you the provisions! Remember, Winthrop's the best!"

"Thanks Winthrop, you are the BEST!"

With that said, Imoen had her backpack filled with Winthrop's Rations of the Highest QualityTM, a well polished and sharpened short sword, and a short bow and a quiver of arrows. She had greatly thanks Puff... er …Winthrop for the goods and set out north for her brother.

** Present**

It had seemed such a long trek to Imoen; she hadn't adventured for three years and it was making her hardiness to the road a bit rusty. Nights were uncomfortable and she had bare the cold as well as the rugged "cushion" of the outdoor surface. By the time she got to Beregost, to her frustration she had been delayed due to the suspicion of the Flaming Fist guards only when they had reconfirmed that she was "Imoen" and came from Candlekeep.

However, during her travels on the road, her thoughts were on Locke. She had series of worries about the state of her brother and how is she going deal with her brother's reaction when she finally finds him. Her dreams were reminders of good memories of her and Locke playing games, talking, and time spent together, and the shocking discovery in Nashkel. No matter how pleasant her dreams were where, they somehow rewind back to Locke's confession. The more she dwelled on the dreams, the more anxious and desire she felt in finding Locke and confronting her own truths and feelings.

Taking camp in Cloakwood Forest, when Imoen fell into slumber, the dream she was having is different than the others.

In a ripple and blur, her supposed vision focused on a seemly abandoned Candlekeep. It was like an alien sunset; bluish, purple rays occupied the skies and gave an ominous atmosphere to the surroundings of the fortress. As she turned around to her left, she had confronted herself; a copy of herself but in her adolescent years.

Before Imoen could say anything, the copy began to speak.

"Memories are wonderful things. They help serve as reminders of pleasant times that you once had. They were such pleasant times. You thought of the memories of when you had spent time with Locke were true. There was nothing bad or strange happening between the two of you. It was what it was: just brother and sister, friend and friend. It was true."

Suddenly, Imoen was presented with very warm and happy images of memories of her and her brother talking walks in the garden and forest, chatting and pulling pranks on unsuspecting bullies, and looking at the stars and singing old childhood songs. Yes, they felt…no they were good and true.

The dream avatar then interrupted the memories, leaving Imoen disappointed as she desired to cling back to those times.

"Those memories were true because it was full of love, was it not? Even in this memory, can you still feel it to be true? Is it still love, or can it be the first pangs of attraction? You know that your bond with Locke is greater than what you think it is."

Imoen was then transported to a memory, the time when she convinced her brother to take a bath with her. It was awkward when they entered the bath together for a long time since they were children. She could see Locke's hard, toned body slightly marred with scars attained from combat. However, seeing him half naked and his handsome looks brought a blush to her face and she could feel her heart pumping. The same seemed mutual with Locke as he too was brought to a blush. She remembered herself asking him if she was pretty.

"I..I… oh goblinshit… Imoen… why ask me this," Locke said with blushing embarrassment. He couldn't believe that his sister asked him this.

" C'mon lil' brother! I wanna know! I mean you ARE my brother, so you should know."

Locke gave a deep breath. "I hope she's NOT gonna kill me," he thought.

"Well… ahem… I…uh… I think that you are pretty… uh… in a way…"

"Waitaminute BIG BROTHER! In WHAT WAY?"

"Uh… I mean… you're really attractive! It's not hard seeing because… well… because you've got cute eyes."

"Oh gods," thought Locke. "That was really lame."

However, Imoen's reaction surprised him.

"Really? You think that I'm attractive?"

"Uh… yeah. That's pretty much it. (Whew.)"

Imoen blushed harder and felt her heart go a bit faster. Still, she had to thank her brother's words. It made her feel good about herself.

"Gee…. thanks lil' brother."

"Uh… no problem," answered Locke. (What a save. But… she is cute.)

The entire bath time was spent talking about old times before their father Gorion's death, and playing mock naval battles. The present Imoen smiled at the whole happiness of the memory but was further disappointed when it faded into the memory of herself scolding her brother for his "attraction."

"That memory was true and you know it. You cannot deny the attraction for your brother because it was there. Your bond is with Locke is stronger than you've realized. The times you've spent, the hardships you have faced with your brother, and the countless times that Locke had sacrificed his life to save yours. Can you deny and say that the attraction you have for him is only a mere brother and sister relationship? I know because I can feel it. But can you admit it to yourself? You have almost broken that bond that both of you have shared and created because of "immorality." But I wonder, is it enough reason to tear away this true love?"

Again she was thrust into a memory. She was now a teen of fourteen years and lying down from an injury caused by a crushing blow from a goblin. She expected a peaceful stroll in the woods and now she was lying in pain with her life at the hands of a goblinoid.

Then she heard a warcry.

"IMOEN!"

A rock flew from the left, striking head on the goblin. The monster faltered in pain, and Locke was there to parry it's attack with his club, and struck down until the goblin was no more. He then put his arms around Imoen.

"Imoen! Are you okay? You're bruised!"

"N…nothing… Locke… just got messed up a bit."

"Hang on Imoen! I'm getting you to the nearest healer!"

While Locke carried her with his arms, she couldn't deny the comfort she felt when she held close to his chest. His arms where pleasant and she held tightly to Locke. Imoen wanted this moment to last forever.

However, she was suddenly pulled away from the memory and could hear her adolescent copy yell, "No! Not the pain… not again! Locke, please help me!"

Then Imoen found herself repeating those words.

"Help me," Imoen yelled when she was rudely awaken by the splash of ice-cold water. As she looked up, she found herself surround by very well-armed bandits, and herself, lying on the ground tied with her hands behind her back.

Then an armored figure of a man revealed himself from the midst of the bandits. He then spoke with a chilling tone.

"Welcome fellow Bhaalspawn. I'm afraid… we have come on a bad time."

Imoen can almost see his cruel grin.


	5. Cruel Capture

** CHAPTER 4**

** A Cruel Capture**

"Ugh," Imoen grunted in her most unladylike manner when she was pushed further by the end of a bandit's pike. Her hands where tied at the back, restricting options that she had thought to act on to ensure her escape. Unfortunately, right now she was surrounded by bandit guards that lewdly leered at her and was being watched by the armored man.

"Move it girl. You wouldn't want to get HIM angry," the guard poking her with the pike smiled as he pointed at the armored man, who seemed to be the leader.

"Stuff it Warg-brain," retorted the young mage, which only seemed to get her another annoying poke from the brigand's pike.

It felt like hours during the forced journey to anywhere the armor-clad man was leading his entourage. There was no stop for rest, no breather, and no word or plea for permission to settle for a moment to catch a bite to eat or a sip to drink. The only activity was traversing in the deep forests of somewhere. Imoen thought that the area the brigand squad was navigating through was probably near the Cloakwood Forests. 

However, during that time, there was no entertainment and the men were getting restless due to the boredom of traveling and no allowance of settling down. Imoen felt really nervous as she bagan to receive stares from the scum around her. 

"Hey um, Great Fharadas sir, mind if we have a bit of fun with her first," one of the guards asked with a hungry look on is face, the kind of look that he probably never had a chance gaze upon a female for long terms of his service.

Just when she thought that something bad was going to happened to her, in which she prepared her fireball spell ready at thought, an unexpected event surprised her when she expected the more obvious since she was surrounded by brigand scum who wanted nothing more than to pillage and rape for pleasure.

The armored figure looked towards man who asked for doing the dirty deed with the young captive. He calmly came up to him and with one quick stroke he caught his throat tightly and threatened to choke him.

"I warn you that she is NOT to be touched even by the likes of you," Fharadas, which was now the name revealed for the armor-clad leader, cruelly warned the punished. "SHE is a special request for the Lady herself. If anyone dares to lay a hand on her skin, they shall be at the end of my cold blade, their groin mutilated and their insides flayed until you can see the crimson wave of pain and death. Do you heed my words you cursed whelp-of-a-bitch?"

The bandit struggled to nod and Fharadas freed his throat, leaving his henchman to gasp for air. His fellows helped him to his feet and assured him that sought pursuit of the pleasure of Imoen's flesh was not worth the pain and effort, stating that her breasts are too small and there were other wenches to eye upon. However, despite the words, the man looked coldly at her and to his leader and furiously brushed off his supporters when he fell back to formation. Imoen felt a little glad that her capturer staved off the incoming pursuit of rape but at the same time she was slightly angered at their comments. Her breasts were not small! However, she quickly came to her senses and realized that if she did not plan an escape out of her bonds, she may be as well subjected to any grim atrocity that may fall before her once "Fharadas" reached his destination.

Now to think about it, she still hasn't seen his face, nor knew more about her capturer.

Hours seem to turn to days but soon the tiresome journey finally to an end came at an end when the entourage reached through a clearing of passage from the deep forests. As they entered through the clearing, Imoen then noticed that the destination revealed itself to be a bandit outpost. It had seemed that the rumors provided by Ol' PuffGuts were proven true. There were makeshift buildings supported with the binding of wood. Wooden towers were stationed at the corner ends of the wall protecting the outpost, which was heavily fortified with wood. Imoen saw the brigand men forcing the people in rags into doing building work and mining, for she saw a hole on the surface leading to a mine. 

"Halt!"

The men finally stopped.

The young mage thought that the troubles of bandits ended when she and her brother wiped out the factions hired by the Iron Throne. Now it seems that suspicions about a newly formed organization of banditry were deemed true as she was standing in the core of proof.

"Men you are all dismissed," ordered the leader and his people dispersed into their own tents for rest, pleasure, or whatever they did. He then turned to Imoen.

Fharadas then approached her. Although his entire face was covered from his skull-like helm, she could see his eyes, the color of cold blue. It reminded her of something.

The armored man spoke. "You shall follow me."

She was then led aggressively to a prison tent. There were stakes on the ground with metal bondages chained to them. There was one prisoner who was chained but he or she was wasted away since the mage could only see decayed bones near them. She was then chained to the thick, wooden pole that held the stability of the makeshift prison. Fharadas leaned over to Imoen's face and slowly rubbed her face.

"So… fair. You remind me of my Lady." Fharadas said softly as he intimately held her chin as if he was holding something precious.

"Get yer filthy hands off me," Imoen said in disgust. She certainly did not want to be touched by HIM.

The armored fighter then stood up and looked down her as if she was some rotten thing to be cast down upon.

"It doesn't matter. You are now here," he said with a grim tone. "I wonder what she wanted from you. You are nothing but a mere rodent living off the ashes of waste than that compared to her. I understand that you are mage, are you not? You will find no advantage here. Those ropes are enhanced with the greatness of my Lady's magic. NO matter how hard you try to struggle, there is NO escape."

"You are no fairer than she is, nor you are NEVER her."

Imoen, angry and irritated, replied back. "Not so much for someone who can't get that tin-head out, much less his own ass!"

"Ho! There is some spark in this one, no? I know she would ENJOY her gift. Just remember, you are never like my Lady." With that said, he left the tent, leaving her to her own ends.

"Pfft, stupid son of mule's ass. Sayin' I'm no good at my Art? Oh he'll see," muttered Imoen as she was determined to free herself from these accursed bond and escape from this hive of scum, and in hopes of running into that "Tin-head" again so she throw a magic missile on her way.

No that won't do; too easy. She'll have to resort to bigger fireworks just to make he felt every inch of her agony.

Imoen concentrated on her magics to free herself from her bonds. While she felt every pull and force of the magic between the energies of her ability and of the bonds, she met heavy resistance. Every amount of attempt to push towards the force to end the enchantment pushed her away, giving the young mage a shock to her nerves. Imoen was sweating from all the heavy work she had to focus on but kept going onward. She had to be free. 

Then she thought back to her magic teachings received from Father Dethryn. He had once stated about Magical Weaving theory and using it with applied forces. One of his lectured explained that although there is any magical resistance or force that was deemed impossible to bring down, there is always a way around it, a means of navigating through the tightened, woven magic to find that breaking point, as well as unweaving any weak links of the magics to lower the strength. 

Imoen clamed herself down and started to feel the "weaves" of magic from the enchanted iron bonds. The magics were woven very tightly and almost flawlessly, however there were still tiny weak weavings from the outer wall of the core. She worked on whittling away bits by bits of the resistance, destroying weak links and carefull navigating without hitting anything strong enough to propel her back to the starting point. Imoen almost had a small respect and envy for whomever that conjured this type of magic. He or she was a powerful mage, and possibly more advanced than her. However Imoen won't let this obstacle get in her way. Not the Great and Terrible Imoen nope! She was still the greatest at her stuff no matter who was more powerful or not. Working on reducing the opposing magic was a long and strenuous task and seemed to go on for hours. However, she was glad that there hadn't been anyone that entered the prison, hindering her efforts and hard work. Finally, she had found the breaking point of the force and was about to destroy it. Suddenly, somebody finally entered the prison. Nevertheless, Imoen still maintained her control. The young mage cursed at her luck, for it was that same bandit who hungered for her flesh entering the prison with that same look again.

"My my my, a sow, all prepared and ready to eat," the brigand taunted as well as showing of his flawless decay of teeth. 

"Yeah, and this sow's ready to kick yer ass!" Finally, with a forceful magical shove, she broke her bonds and released her power on him, knocking him out of the tent. 

"Hey Bruno!" Imoen heard a voice as she rubbed her wrists to ease them from the strain of her bonds. "Something's strange with the prisoner! Go check it out!"

However, Imoen was ready. When the brigand guards came in to investigate any matter inside the prison tent that resulted in one of their men being toasted to a crisp, they met only to be ambushed by Imoen's powerful flame magics.

With a deep breath of pure satisfaction from her handiwork, Imoen readied herself and proceeded to wage her escape, including setting off little explosions on the way.

As she ran, the full wrath of Imoen's talent was revealed. Already the bandits caught themselves taking full blows from her magics as she wrecked havoc on the fortifications, supplies, and armory. At least when she escaped, it would do best to ensure that her captors did not have anymore means to press on for her capture. Although there was only a small percentage of revenge, it was PURELY tactical reason. The young mage smiled at her justified actions and ran to the blasted opening of the stone wall.

It was an easy escape. Make the run for the forests, hide under leaves, and continue on for New Cloakwood.

However, before she could succeed, she knocked full force on her chest by something magical and was slammed down to the grasses. The only image she saw was that of a woman with an elaborate robe or gown as she quickly lost consciousness.

~~~~

When Imoen finally woke up from her unconscious state her image started to focus, it seemed to be chamber, with a lab in front of her and elaborate furniture as well as a bed, laden with silks. However, what she saw was shocked her beyond anything at all. She saw herself, yet with a terrible beauty, with a regal dress and radiating with immense magical power that it made some of the hairs of her head stand in the midst of such awe. Yet, she sported a cruel grin.

"Ah, the 'weak' one has awoken Fharadas, my dear. Isn't this nice," the regal duplicate smiled with an aura of assurance of her superiority over Imoen who was now naked with her legs chained down and her arms up to have her remain vertical.

"Dammit," Imoen thought. She really hated to be continuously chained or tied, or whatever the heck reduced her to this, and plus she was naked and it was embarrassing. This was really annoying her.

"Let me go who… whoever you are! I'm warning you. I can really turn this place into rubble!"

"Look," the replica mocked with a chuckle as rubbed the girl's chin. "She still insists deluding herself that she holds more power here. Don't you find this amusing my love?"

"Yes Lady Illinea, not even 'she' is powerful as you," said Fharadas as he removed his helm only to reveal…

Locke's face!

"Locke… is that you," pleaded Imoen. She was not sure that she was dreaming but her eyes made no mistake. From his short rugged hair to his blue eyes, it was certainly Locke's face. 

"Locke, snap out of it! This isn't funny," Imoen called out as some sort of desperate attempt to shake off this current nightmare. Unfortunately, she only met with sharp pain as she was slapped from this Locke.

"Wench! Do not ever speak that accursed name! I am not he, never he shall be me!"

"Fharadas, hold yourself dear. Shall remind our false imposter her sinful thoughts as we make pleasure in hopes of giving her pain?"

"Yes my Lady; my thoughts exactly."

Fharadas grinned as he kissed his 'lover' with the fiercing drive of lust. The image was disturbing to Imoen for she saw her own face; her own twisted avatar joining together with … this other Locke looked so real that she couldn't bear to think anything else. All of her wanted to close her eyes from this twisted view of this sinful action. Although she tried with all her might to shut the window of her vision, she could not for there was some magic that continued to keep her eyes open. During the lovemaking, she could hear Illinea's insults in her mind, mocking her and insulting her, describing every detail of her desires.

"I understand your… need for your brother. Yes… to be near with him… to just hold him," taunted the sorceress as she held her lover as if she was inviting him to ravish her. As eager, Fharadas held her down and started to taste her flesh.

"Stop it! This is disgusting!"

"Oh you say that so when your desires say another! You hypocritical slut; so typical that you deny what is within you. You know what you want. Your brother all over you, penetrating you deepest, darkest desires, satiating your lust for him," Illinea continued as she let her partner continue in ravaging her. 

"No! It's not true! I'm not listening! This is all shit!"

"You lie! You know you want it! Look at me and tell me this isn't what you want, isn't it?"

"N..No… Locke isn't that way! He would never do this… I would never!"

"You lie," Locke's voice evilly declared inside her mind.

"Locke? What are you…"

"Silence incestuous whore! What ever happened to Locke dear? Your dear brother, the one who you rejected his declaration of love? Yes, I declared it because I know you like the feel of me inside of you. You are no different then I, only to reject because you deny yourself what you truly desire. You are so alike even though the Taint is gone, you still have the rage! Your desires are the truth! You want me! There's no use denying what you blood boils for."

"Shut up, shut up! He wouldn't say that… he wouldn't…"

"He would for Locke shall be mine," said another voice which was now Illinea's voice. "He doesn't want a weakling like you, the one who rejected him when he declared his love."

"He doesn't want a betrayer."

"You; betrayer."

"SHUT UP! YOU'LL NEVER HAVE HIM," yelled Imoen as her breaking point was reached. AS she said it, she was sobbing in results of the cruel digging of the truth. It didn't help when she felt so dirty for her thoughts, the dreams of embracing her brother reduced down to the carnal lust so loving displayed by the display of the mating taken place in front of her with herself so denied.

"Locke…," Imoen meekly called as if there was some hope in the name.

"Yes… say his name. Say his name. Oh Locke," Illinea's voice responded in a mocked cry of passion as she reached the climax.

Illinea, satisfied at both the sex and seeing the weak one cry and broken down to the very edge of the knife, she signaled for Fharadas that she was finished. Reluctantly, he exited out of the bed and rearmed himself in skilled quickness. He then gave a kiss to Imoen's lips to further the insult. 

"What is your wish now, milady," huskily asked Illinea's partner with great confidence after his favorite activity has passed.

"My wish is now for you to lay waste to New Cloakwood. Such trite town with no strategical value has no interest for me. We can always claim the mines for ourselves and let the slaves do the work. No one will be able to stop us now. The true heirs to the Throne will usher the Great Chaos."

"And that I look forward to, with you at my side my Lady," Fharadas heartily agreed as he opened the door. "Oh, and enjoy your gift."

"Oh I will my dear. I will."

With a smirk Fharadas wore his helmet and exited the chamber. After his exit, the sorceress approached Imoen with a lustful smile.

"Oh yes false one. We have a LOT to do."


	6. Struggle and Rescue

**CHAPTER 5**

**The Struggle and Rescue**

"Please… I can't take this anymore…" the young captive whimpered and yelped as the heat of the magical pain was blasted on the surface of the skin, leaving a raw rash. There was little blood shed from some of the small but extreme wounds, however it left a gruesome decoration on the poor girl. She could hear the cruel laugh of her captor as she was inflicted with more blows from Illinea's torture magics.

"Oh but why should I? You are nothing more than an empty husk.", Illinea replied. "You are weak. You do not even take what is rightfully yours and you expect that it will all end just because you wish it? You are even more foolish than I had expected." As to add further to the insult, she added to the infliction, indulging to Imoen's sobs and pleas to stop.

The young mage could only whisper a word that gave her a bit more strength for the ongoing onslaught of cruelty.

"Locke…"

~~~

A slight chill when up to the spine leaving an aura of suspenseful malice that enveloped his entire body. His whole instinct went to the extreme as if there was something threatening in the dark beyond. All he could feel was extreme awareness that something was really wrong but he could not explain why.

"Imoen?"

He though back to the times that he had with his sister. But he had sworn a long time that he would never dishonor the one he loved. After all, she was a good woman and didn't need his corruption. She didn't deserve more disgrace and harm because of him. Imoen was already safe in Candlekeep with a promising mage career without him intervening; hampering her life.

Or… was she? 

Despite the strange circumstances he knew what he had to do. He was a bit reluctant to delay his investigation when he had came so close to truth; the real reason of what was plaguing the Realms. However, this ill omen had asserted him that there were other things that required his attention. The only thing he could trust on was his instincts to guide him to his next destination. 

At least he could help her one last time.

~~~

"Why… why… are doing this?", the captured mage dared to ask when she recovered a small break from the torture and still determined to find out why she was deserving of this punishment.

"Now THAT is a good question," the replica torturer mocked with amusement as she increased the intensity of her lightening razors that struck the body of her intended and left read welts. She relished hearing her cry out in tears as she was broke bit by bit with every consecutive strike. "I will tell you a story. There was this stupid mage. I believe his name was Irenicus. Yes. He had a kick out of making clones and torturing them."

"You see, there were these two people. They were Bhaalspawns. They escaped from the clutches of that stupid mage. Seeking to replace what he had lost, he made us. Remember those glass tanks you saw? Oh yes. I remember clearly. I pleaded for escape, while you and your brother cowered away leaving me and Fharadas into the hands of THAT mage. You could've offered us aid, but no, WE had to suffer hell ourselves, going through every 'experiment' that 'He' had his head on just because he was impatient and didn't have you two to experiment on. Oh… I bided my time. I've researched everything. I too have the Gift, that Taint that you despise so bitterly. Yet it was wasted on you two."

"I'm sorry, but it's not what you think," Imoen explained but she was quickly interrupted by a more, intense magical force that stung her body, leaving her to whimper to lessen the strain.

"Silence! Did I say I was done? Good. When our 'Master" was destroyed, we were free, but with a price. I worked to master my power, as it has served me well. But Fharadas… my dear Fharadas was weak. He was incomplete. We were both incomplete. We had no souls. Determined I was to slow the decaying process, using the magical knowledge I have learned from Irenicus' documents as well as embracing my powers. I continued my research only to find out Fharadas' flaw. He had none of the Taint; my love was nothing but a shell. With no spark of life he had a short lifespan. To make him complete, I experimented with clones, focusing my magic to give him power. Although I live a full life, Fharadas was nothing more than an incomplete failure, living a short week, sometimes a month if I was lucky. This is now where you and your brother come in."

"My brother? Locke? What are you going to do with him?"

"He will become my Fharadas. Didn't you say you didn't love him like that? You didn't LOVE him as a man? He has no need for that since you've abandoned him. I can no longer do more for Fharadas. He is nothing more than an overproduced product that whittles away in quality. Even though his power is immense now, he will surely die in months, leaving me to repeat the cycle again. Let me tell you, you spoiled brat. Do you know how straining and depressing it is to see your loved one die again and again? Do you know how angry you feel when your other selves enjoy life and frolic while you suffer cruelly under the unawareness of the entire world! If you don't need your brother, then why not let me take him from your hands?"

"NO, I won't let you take him!"

Oh, so you do admit that you have some feelings for him! That is too late now, for it is MY turn to make a name for, to hear my name be heard throughout the Realms as the most powerful! I shall gladly take the Throne to make the world suffer for its cruelty. You know not what the Gift gives you. You and your fear of the 'Tainted' blood; if this was such a curse to you, then it is a boon to I. Did you see not the men and creatures I have at my command? When I have the power to crush down the walls of Baldur's Gate and take the crown for myself; it is truly a wonderful gift. But what will be truly wonderful, is to take your life for my own."

"My… my soul? You can't have it! My… my brother shall stop you!"

"No, your brother shall not stop me. In fact, he shall join me. He shall love me. He shall SERVE ME."

"No… he wouldn't", Imoen sobbed at her helplessness. She couldn't help but feel some truth to her words.

"And now, you will give me your soul."

As Imoen could hear the sorceress' chanting, she began to feel light, and her eyelids were getting heavier with each second spent. No matter how hard she tried to resist, in a bright flash of light, all of her consciousness was abandoned in favor of the darkness.

~~~

As soon as she regained her conscious, the first this she saw was the area of the Candlekeep Fortress. But it was beyond the same old Keep that she knew; it was a decayed, a wrecked version of the fortress of knowledge. The walls were as if time and war had marred their sturdy structure with cracks and holes. The buildings were as cracked as the wall and the structure of the Keep itself was marred with whittled decay of stone. The image of the ruins brought feelings of desolation and loneliness.

As Imoen looked around to confirm her surroundings, she heard a familiar voice she had not heard in three years.

"Hey Imoen!" She turned and saw what surprised her. It was Locke!

With newfound glee and gusto the young mage raced towards and gave him a big hug as if she hadn't seen him in a long time. She was so glad to reunite with her brother for surely he would drive away the pain she had suffered.

"It's been a long time brother! But… what are you doing here?"

Locke looked at her face with a smile. However, Imoen noticed something strange in his eyes; and his smile didn't look it was filled with happiness. In fact, it seemed more than a smirk. "I'm here to give you what you've always wanted."

"What do you mean Locke?"

"This."

Imoen unexpectedly was then forced down on the ground while being ambush by the fierce kissed on the mouth by her own brother? She sensed that there was something wrong and pleaded to stop.

"Stop, Locke… stop! This is wrong."

However, that only earned her slap. She was shocked as she covered her left cheek where her brother slapped her.

"Locke?"

"Shut up incestuous bitch! I know this is what you want, isn't it?", snapped Locke as he perversely tried fondle her as she tried to move his hands away.

"Stop, stop it right now! It's not funny!"

Again she earned herself another slap but harder than the first. Her eyes were filled with tears at the response of Locke's treachery.

"No…", Imoen sobbed as she struck with another slap.

"Isn't this what you want? Isn't this what you want from your DEAR brother," mocked Locke as he prepared to tear off his victim's clothing. "I'm going to MAKE you like it!"

As piece by piece he shredded her dress, Imoen's desperate cries grew louder and louder. Only after a short while she stopped her resistance because she had a feeling that nobody hearing her.

Nobody to help her.

Nobody.

As Locke went lower… he was suddenly struck out of the way by some figure. The girl looked up to her rescuer. He was covered with armor, the same that her brother still used to wear in their journeys, and covered with the black cloak that she recognized easily. As her benefactor turned his head, it revealed to be none other then…

"Locke," Imoen whispered to acknowledge what she was seeing.

The armored Locke unhooked his cloak and intimately wrapped it around her to cover her self. When he was done, he looked straight into her eyes and said the only word…

"Fight."

Locke then picked up his greatsword and met with the other Locke, who was now armored with Fharadas' armor. After acknowledging their duel, they fought ferociously with rage and skill. Both of them were equals in combat; every swing and strike was countered with skillful parry. Imoen was confused between the two Locke figures battling. As she touched the cloak, she felt that familiar warmth she used to know. However, her reminiscing was interrupted as she saw her true brother thrust onto the ground, signaling his defeat.

The Locke whom she now knew he was not her brother yelled out in great victory.

"You are weak for I AM the true LOCKE, for he shows no mercy! My prize shall be the soul of Imoen, for she is mine! Come to me Imoen! Only I shall guide you to your true destiny, and give you what you want!"

Imoen helped her fallen brother. She placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling happily as she did when they were together. She looked at the other Locke and gave a determined look.

"I am not yours! I will fight till you are defeated and no more! You are not my brother!"

"I am giving you your true desires yet you deny me? Fight me in your own mind? Truly you must be mad! I am Locke!"

But both brother and sister stood together, united in spirit and harmony. Together they charged while yelling out their battlecries.

"I FIGHT!"

~~~

Imoen suddenly woke up but was panting heavily as if she was tired from fighting a strenuous battle. As she look up, she saw her captor in rage.

"You dare resist me? Could it be that you are more powerful than me? No… that is foul, that is false! I am the true one! I AM IMOEN!"

"Face it hog-bitch," Imoen retorted with a smirk in her face. "I'm just that good."

"Shut up and suffer!"

Pain wracked all over the mage's body and soul as she wriggled in torture. But she refused to give in, biting her lips to prevent herself from breaking and screaming. At least if she died, she would die with a fight.

Suddenly, the chamber door burst open in full force, enough to send the door flying across the chamber. Out came a figure of a man. He wore no helmet, so face was visible to all. As Imoen took lone long look, the face revealed itself to be Locke. He looked as if he had gone through a war. His cloth and cloak were damaged, and his armor suffered a lot of cracks and burns. There was some blood on his face, and his famous Greatsword was covered with the blood of the slain.

"You!," declared the fighter. "I have fought through hall and hell to finally confront the master or I might say mistress of this dark conspiracy. I demand… Imoen?"

Suddenly he was faced with two faces of Imoen, one in a gown and one chained to the wall. This was surely an illusion. He could only sum up that his real sister was the one chained. He guessed that his instinct was proven correct overall. She was in trouble.

"Free my sister and you shall have mercy!", demanded the mage's brother as he threatened the sorceress with his blade. Suddenly, he felt his mind go blank. His feet could not move; there was no longer feeling left in his movements. There was only… calmness.

"Locke… it's me. It's Imoen," called out Illinea. Be damned if the false one was successful in resisting her spell. The only way to truly break her was to gain Locke's soul. So far, her powers have not failed.

"Imoen… Imoen… is that… you?" questioned Locke as he slowly went near Lady Illinea. The sorceress embraced him and kissed him passionately on the lips, whispering words of passion in his ear. "Yes," Illinea thought victoriously. "It's working! My powers have not failed!"

"No Locke," Imoen desperately yelled as if it depended on her life. "Locke you know who's your real sister! Fight it! Fight it as you had with me! Together Locke! Together!"

"Silence false one. There is nothing but Locke and Imoen."

"No… fight it! Please Locke…"

It seemed that her brother was totally succumbed to the temptations of the Lady, but in unexpected turn, he pushed her away, shook his head to clear his mind, and grabbed his weapon fully.

"Don't tempt me with your foul words! Imoen doesn't have cold eyes like yours!"

Illinea, now offended by the rejection raised her arms to strike at the one who insulted her with her powerful magics. Before she could cast her spell the fighter charged and struck the sorceress down with one fatal blow. He went near her as she now choking in pain and dying from his attack.

"I…I… I was so… I wanted you… You were supposed to be mine."

"No," answered Locke. "I was never yours."

Illinea looked at her original and then back at Locke. His rage was gone now, replaced with pity and calmness. She saw his eyes; they were sea blue… so beautiful. No wonder why Imoen was so taken with him. She could even see the depths of his emotions.

As Locke went over to free Imoen, he was grabbed by the leg. He looked down to see the dying Lady struggle to say something.

"I…I want your … forgiveness," pleaded Illinea. "Tell Fharadas that …. That I'm sorry… I… I should've… left him… to sleep eternally... than die a thousand deaths…" She looked over to Imoen. "I… I want your forgiveness too. I'm … I'm… sorry for my actions… don't let this opportunity… pass by… I…," the Lady took her final breath and died.

~~~

Imoen was near the campfire, keeping warm while her brother whispered a few prayers to the makeshift grave of Lady Illinea. As soon as he was finished he sat down near his sister to join her near the fire.

Before Imoen could say anything, Locke chose the first initiative. 

"I'm sorry that it took long to rescue you."

His sister gave a smile. "Don't worry. I was glad that you did,"

There was a long pause until Imoen decided to interrupt the silence before it drove her mad. "So, long time no see! How are ya Locke? Tell me what you've done in your travels! C'mon, no SECRETS!"

Her brother gave a chuckle and gave a failing but humorous attempt of telling his story like as if it was some epic journey that he traversed with huge tall tales of enormous monsters and how he defeated them in battle, with his sister giggling madly. However, his tone transformed into a serious one when he started telling her of his ongoing investigations about the new bandit activity.

"I didn't know you were in the heart of the cartel Imoen. I've discovered clues and drawn out conclusions based on the information I've gotten from sources. When I have finally discovered that there was a hidden base of operations, I started prepare for any combat I would confront along the way. The Tower was guarded by magical creatures that gave me a intense challenge, as well as the treacherous halls seeking to trap me into death. Luckily, I remembered all the trap stuff you've taught me Imoen."

"Yup! That's me!", Imoen pronounced proudly to take credit for Locke's claims.

"As always Imoen."

The mage hugged her brother tightly with so much affection. Locke wanted to say something that he was not worthy of her affection but kept his mouth shut. Better to let his sister enjoy the good times than bother with… that. Besides, it was his fault anyway.

However, he was shocked when Imoen asked him the question that he never though of hearing from her lips.

"Locke… do you love me?"

"I…," the fighter was put into a deadlock here. Here he was contemplating on how he could deal with his feelings towards Imoen. He still loved her; but it was beyond the love than that of a brother and sister. It was something that he was ashamed of, and here he was, trying to give an answer to the most difficult question.

No, he could not risk having his sister to be further disgusted of him. So he chose the safest path.

"I love you like a brother loves a sister." It was a lie. A painful lie.

There was no answer but another question from Imoen. "You'll never hurt me, right Locke?"

"No. I will never hurt you," answered Locke with fervent belief. "I would rather put myself through pain than harming you. I would rather be condemned to the nine planes of hell than ever put you through harm. You are important to me. To see you in pain gives me pain and the anger of the knowledge that you are harmed in both soul and body." He looked straight into her eyes. "I would do anything; even give my life to relinquish your pain."

His sister looked straight up to him and gave the most pleasant smile that he had ever seen in his entire three years without her at his side. He wished he could sink further in that smile, to kiss deep into those beautiful lips, his vision surround with her heavenly face.

But he couldn't do that. Instead he returned the smile and hugged her.

Imoen wasn't through with just a hug. She kept holding on to Locke as if he was the dearest thing in life and laid her head on his lap. She felt so good when she was near him; his warmth giving her sweet feelings that melted into every fiber of her body. She finally knew what was really true.

The girl whispered as she fell to pleasant sleep. "I now know what to believe in."

All Locke did was rubbing her head softly as she went to sleep. "Sweet dreams, Imoen."

But inside her thoughts as she went deep into her dreams was something she wished to tell her brother.

"I… love you."


	7. End Of a Fear

** CHAPTER 6**

** End of The Fear**

Slumber lay the river of pleasant things that poured into the rested mind of the young mage. She dreamt happily like no other dream; it was full of eloquent happiness than the other sleeping thoughts of past rests. She had dreamt back to the fields outside of Candlekeep, when they were allowed some recess outside the walls with the assignment of collecting firewood. As she could remember, it was Locke's eighteen birthday, the day when he would become a man. They had setted off to the woods to take a morning stroll as well as fulfilling the assignment. But pleasure as usual to both of them came first and they chased each other from tree to tree. Although Locke reached the age of maturity, he was still yet a boy.

"I'm gonna get you Imoen! I'm fast enough," Locke cried out in ambitious fun as he really tried his best to just to make contact Imoen to declare that she was it. The dead truth was that Imoen was a lot faster that he is and he was fighting an epic battle to just match her distance. Finally, he yielded to the greatness of girl's speed and sat on a mossy rock near the pines to catch his breath.

"Well now, feeling tired aintcha," teased Imoen as she crept towards him with a smug grin on her face.

"Pant… I was… pant… almost… pant this **close**," choked the boy while he used his two fingers to emphasize his proximity in the chase.

"Yeah, yeah and sky is blue and all that," Imoen mocked with a big smile on her face. She sat with him and playfully tried to push Locke off the rock. He returned the act by russling her hair followed by her giggling as she also tried to russle his. For a brief moment of relaxation of enjoying the sight of the woods. A thought came to her head. 

"Say, I haven't given you anything for your birthday," she said as she set her sights on the branches to watch the birds going about in their daily habitat.

"Nay Imoen, you don't need to do anything for me. Friends don't need to give gifts. It's the friendship we have that counts. I'm happy enough to be your friend," assured the young man as looked over to his left to see a fallen branch on the ground and bent over to pick it up to fulfill his task as firewood collector.

"Come on you saint! You know better than that. I haven't given you a single gift for every birthday you had. Why, in all my birthdays you always managed to find a present for dear ol' me," Imoen laughed with a slight guilt in her voice. Really, Locke was the only one who had found a way to give her presents in every celebration in the day of her birth.

"Don't beat yourself too hard Imoen. I'm always happy to find a gift for you because we're best friends right?"

"Yeah, but this birthday is supposed to be something special. I mean, you're eighteen years of age already and ready to go out in a man's world, and I want to give you something special!"

"Oh come on Imoen, I'll never really become a 'man'!" the "man" joked as he was referring to his past mischiefs with her.

"Yeah right, you'll always become that lil' boy I always forever know. Anyway you're changing the topic!"

"Like I said, you really don't need to give me a present. I'm happy with our friendship."

"Urgh! Must you be so stubborn," Imoen playfully grumbled while trying and failing to put an irritated look to support her frustration with him.

"Don't do that for long or your eyes'll fall out."

"Oh you," Imoen chuckled and again tried to push Locke out of the rock. He still maintain his seat.

For a few minutes they watched the sky and the fauna, admiring the majesty of nature and taking in the calm silence that eased their bodies and minds. Then Imoen started to speak.

"You know what, I'm going to give you a present now."

"You're going to give me a present now?" He was puzzled by the declaration of his friend's intent. He wasn't sure where this'll lead.

"I'm serious! I'm going to give it now!"

"But, how are going to give me a –" Locke could not finish his sentence as he was interrupted by a slight contact made by Imoen. It was a light touch but it was Imoen's lips to his. Unexpecting it, he tightened up and felt warmth in his cheeks.

"Um… uh… I… uh…," Locke stammered as he was caught off guard by her gift of surprise.

Imoen just gigled at the flabbergast look of her friend. She was also aware that she too blushed when she thought what she had done.

"That was thanks for being my best friend. I hope we'll stay the same to the end," Imoen told him to give him some clarity before he could clumsily finish his sentence.

"Oh, a kiss of friendship. I see. Um, thank you for the gift. I'm also grateful that we friends and I can promise you, we shan't separate till the end," Locke gladly complied as he wrapped his arm around his companion and patted her shoulder to signify his agreement and promise. They both smiled and laughed together in their joy of their acknowledgement of their eternal friendship.

"Come on," Locke commanded in full jest as he stood up from the rock. "Gorion wants our task done before sunfall."

"Yessir! Imoen's on her way," his cohort sniggered as she got up and began searching for firewood. But when she took a few steps, she heard a painful grunt that came from the only person near her. 

Locke was down on the ground, gathered himself like a fetus and groaning in pain.

"Locke!" Imoen yelped as ran towards him and bent down and held him in attempt to calm him down.

"Imoen. Please," her friend pleaded softly as he struggled as if something was within trying to do utmost harm.

"Locke don't worry, I'm here," Imoen comforted him while hugging him to at least try to alleviate his pain.

"He's coming for me… he's here… no… go away! Stop! Don't get near me! I'll kill you…"

"Locke there's no one there! Please calm down!"

"He's here… he's always here… Sayin' I will learn. I don't want to learn…"

"Locke don't worry, he's not there… Locke? Locke!"

As she turn him down with his back on the floor, she could see his eyes filled with the color of blood. She gasped at the sight and heard his cry of struggle.

"ARRRGH!!!!!!!!!!!!"

***

Imoen shook up to find herself in the campfire here she was originally at with Locke. She tried calling his name but received no answer of him. She sat up and found that the camp was deviod of his presence. The only items of interest she noticed was her bag of provisions and a note near its side. Imoen took the note and read it as it seemed it might provide the answers of his disappearance.

Dear Imoen,

First, I want to say it was a pleasure to see you again. However I can not stay here any longer. I received a prominition that Sword Coast is in greater danger, far more than the likes of Lady Illinea. You have told me about Fharadas and I can only deduce that he is up to something, possibly a seige against Baldur's Gate itself. He has the resources and manpower to do such a feat not possible by an average bandit himselfI must go to prevent this perverted mockery of myself from continuing his plans.

I also want to say is to get away from here this instant. I have provided your bag with provisions and funds to last several hundred days. I hope you can find your fortune somewhere should I fail. I fear I shall not come back from this battle. If he is what he is, then he may be more than a match for me.

My last words are that I am sorry for what I have done to you in the past. I hope that we still can be friends again despite my foolery and perversions. I care for you and hope that you can forgive me for my transgression.

Your friend, Locke Gorion.

Imoen could not be that he would disappear again, just as she had found him again. She didn't care about the past, about what she thought anymore. She wanted Locke again, she wanted see him again.

Imoen would never forgive him if he would die before she had the chance to tell Locke what she felt.

"Stupid stupid Locke! Damn him and that he abandon me like that! Stupid fool! Stupid…"

The young mage packed her bags and quickly made haste towards the city Baldur's Gate. She will not let him leave her like this.

****

She arrived near outskirts of the bridge of Baldur's Gate. Already she had seen the signals of a battle ahead. A sea of soldiers and well armed bandits massed together with cries of commands, deaths, and warcries echoes through the sky. Catapults flung balls of fiery comets, raining down the garrison and the walls of the city itself. In the midst of the chaos, she could see a lone figure paving his way though the battlefield with his greatsword.

It was Locke.

"Locke!" Imoen cried out. 

Making quick work of his opponent, the warrior notice a voice calling his name. Could it be one of soldiers requiring his aid? He heard the voice again and now finally recognized whom was calling him.

"Imoen? What the hell is she doing here? I thought-ARGH!"

Locke held his arm in pain as he looked what was in front of him. It was one of Fharadas' men smirking as he held his blade stained with his blood. The challenged held up his sword to return the threat in equal value. However, something happened that he did not intended. His challenger flew out of the area from a blast of energy and out came Imoen, conjuring magic as if she was attuned to it naturally and she blasted her way through him with an onslaught of magical energy. Seeing magical support routing the enemy a bit, the garrison pushed their attacks further with fierce vigor.

"Imoen, what are you doing here," Locke asked rapidly as he fended off another attacker. His companion stabbed the attacker through the back and tried to answer back.

"I'm not done saying what I want to say and you leave me without finishing!" Imoen yelled back as shew let loose missles of magic from her fingertips to push back the enemy.

Locke heard clearly and then sliced another member of the enemy. "After this battle we can talk!"

"Agreed! Let's kick some ass!"

Like a symphony of combined arms, Imoen provided the artillery damaging and confusing the scores of bandits as Locke slew any incoming attackers seeking to destroy the duo. They tirelessly continued for hours, countering any hostile magic, missles, and melee attacks while slaying the enemy bit by bit. However, things had started to cease when the bandits had stalled their attacks to notice a lone march. The villain army made way to reveal an armored figure of black, with a steel mask of death hiding the wearer's face. The figure approached nearer to the warrior and mage, whom still maintained their defense against anything that the figure might enact upon. The masked warlord soon removed his helmet to reveal the same face of Locke.

"False one. We meet at last," Fharadas smirked as he saw Locke. The garrison gasped as they saw the shocking similarities between the two men.

"So… it is true." Though Locke as he acknowledged his enemy. It was going to be a tough battle.

"Tell the garrison don't bother in continuing their puny defense for I have already claimed the city," the perverted copy of Locke declared.

"It's untrue!" yelled one of the garrison men.

"Damned liar! Locke, is this the enemy you told us about!?"

"Aye captain. It is he. The one who conspires to rip apart the Sword Coast," answered Locke as he still stared at his opponent with great caution.

"Aye and this city will be decided upon if it shall be saved or razed to ashes," Fharadas said mightily as he readied his own greatsword into battle. "It all decides in this battle here. If I win, Baldur's Gate shall be nothing more than a memory. If you win, let us see about that!" Finishing his sentence, he launched at his foe with a strong swing to the ribs. Locke managed to parry the blow before it could reach him.

"You shall not succeed."

"Oh I will and I shall reclaim your name for it is also mine!"

"No!" Imoen tried run over to help her brother but was immediately stopped by the Captain.

"No lass. This is a battle between men. Do not interfere."

"But… Locke…"

She could only stay and watch, for honor demanded her uninvolvement between a duel of warriors. Every swing and attack was parried by each warrior as if they already read the moves. Unfortunately, Fharadas was swifter than Locke and slice a cut on his arm.

"AGH!!"

"You see who is the better one? I am Locke!"

Locke countered with a parry and swung at his hips, however only grazing him for the armor protected that area. The warrior in black saw the chance and injured his leg, causing him to fall down.

"No!" cried out Imoen as she tried to run over to her friend that she would may no longer see if battle still continued. However she was held back by guards to prevent her from interfering. 

Fharadas held the sword at neckpoint towards the fallen warrior. He gave a twisted smile and chuckled, satisfied at the sight before him.

"You shall now pay for the death of my Lady."

Out of desperation, the mage screamed out as it was some sort of hope for her.

"Locke, if you die now I'll never forgive you!"

As Locke heard those words, he swiftly moved before Fharadas could finish his coup de' tat and he stabbed deep into his stomach. His opponent choked in pain as he dropped the sword and held himself as fell down to the ground, signifying his defeat. The bandits, acknowledging the defeat of their leader surrendered peacefully in hopes of a lesser sentence after the battle.

Imoen fled to her brother side and held him as she had almost lost something precious. As Locke was about to say it's over she gave him the hardest punch to the face she could inflict and started hammer her fists at him.

"You stupid fool! How dare you leave me! You son of a flea-mangled bitch! Why did you leave me." She sobbed loudly as she still slapped Locke repeatedly. The guards had to step away a bit from the couple as they escorting the captured. Locke held her tight and patted her head and repeated his apologies to calm his friend down.

"Why… why did you leave me?"

"I thought it was best…" the warrior, now with many bruises on his face, tried to answer.

"Thought best? Locke you idiot, you don't what's best," whisper Imoen as she held him tight.

As moments passed, it became only them. Everything else was secondary of importance, what matter was that they were back together again. Wondering what Imoen wanted to say, Locke decided finally on what was really best for the both of them.

"As soon as we're finished cleaning this mess, we'll head to the Elfsong Tavern. There you can tell me what is on your mind. Do you find it agreeable," he asked with utmost concern for Imoen's decision. She quietly nodded her head and hugged one more time before helping the wounded.

******

At one of the rooms of the Elfsong Tavern

******

After the celebration feast in honor of the heroes of Baldur's Gate, the companions retired to a rented room. Despite the owner's protest of renting them a room free of charge, Locke insisted that he pay and so he did with the owner's reluctance. As soon as they were in, they had a nice casual chat during a sip of tea which was the most enjoyable thing the past three years since they were seperated. However, Locke wanted to get on with the issue of Imoen's intent, so he popped the question.

"Hey Imoen… what were you going to tell me."

There was a few minuted of silence and Imoen responded albieit a little nervousness in her voice.

"I…. I can't call you lil' brother anymore."

"Oh if that's …what?" Locke asked, unsure of what it meant.

"I said I can't call you lil' brother anymore."

"Uh… did I do something wrong?"

Imoen smiled and shook her head. "No, it's not your fault. It's mine."

"But Imoen, you did nothing wrong. It was me that-"

"No Locke," she interrupted while softly holding his hand. Locke felt the touch and felt a bit paranoid; he still did not understand what his sister was implying.

"Imoen… are you okay?"

"No, Locke I didn't see it before. We've endured all the pain and harsh world together. Everything we've done and took part of we did it together. I felt so much more after you got back my soul and I've should've seen that there was more to us then just us."

"I… don't understand Imoen."

"The point I'm trying to say is, you have done so much for me and although I been by your side through our adventures I haven't done enough. Do remember when I first kissed you?"

"Uh… yeah… but that was a friendship kiss right?" Locke said, trying to not let Imoen worry about those issues. It was just simple friendship. 

"Silly, I'm not the one saying that it was just a friendship kiss. I'm trying to say is… I felt that." As she said it, it immediately caught his attention.

"Imoen… what are trying to imply?"

"Is this," Imoen gave a simple answer and embraced his lips with hers. It was a pleasant sensation, the warm lips of the one she truly loved touching her own. She held it as long as possible, indulging herself in the kiss. However, Locke lightly pulled her back with a shocked expression on his face.

"I… I can't do this… I can't do this to you…"

"Can't do what Locke? This is real! This is what I should've done instead of losing you for six years! I shouldn't have abandon you like that."

"But I can't…"

"Oh shut up Locke! I don't care what anybody thinks! All the hardships we faced, I care too much to let you go. I don't want to be away from you anymore Locke. I love you." Without giving Locke any chance to protest, she kissed him again deeper and harder than the first kiss she gave. Locke tried to resist but the taste and feel of Imoen's lips made him surrender to the passion. As they held together, she could her her love sobbing. She looked up to his face and saw tears. She wiped them away and asked him softly, "What's wrong Locke?"

"I…Is this a dream. I thought it was a dream or worse, my perversion. I curse myself so many times to think that I would feel that way towards my sister. I question myself everyday whether what I felt is true or just simple lust. And now we here and I still wonder is my love for you still true? I don't know. I-"

Before he could continue on, Imoen held his lips with her finger. "You know it in your heart it is true, as well as mine. I love you so much Locke. I never want to be alone without you ever again. I can't live without knowing you are always by my side."

Locke smiled shyly with a blush that was now apparent on his cheeks. "I thought so," he said bringing his head closer to Imoen.

"Yes, it is. And so is mine," Imoen said her last words and they both embraced, acknowledging the truth of their love. 


End file.
